


Trust Is Earned (But Also Given)

by Lazy8



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [23]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Aang's crush on Katara is mentioned, Appendicitis, Field Surgery, Gen, Hurt Zuko (Avatar), Hurt/Comfort, No anesthetic, Nonsexual Nudity, Unreliable Narrator, Western Air Temple, Zuko (Avatar) whump, but it doesn't actually go anywhere, canon compliant if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-12 15:34:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28637850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lazy8/pseuds/Lazy8
Summary: It's never a good thing to get sick in the middle of the wilderness with limited supplies.It's even worse when the only person who's qualified to treat you also hates your guts.
Relationships: Aang & Zuko (Avatar), Katara & Zuko (Avatar)
Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [23]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1846456
Comments: 17
Kudos: 206
Collections: Bad Things Happen Bingo





	Trust Is Earned (But Also Given)

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt:** Appendicitis  
>  **Hurt Character:** Zuko  
>  **Comforting Character(s):** None

"Keep your guard up! We're sparring, not dancing!"

"Yes, Sifu Hotman!"

"And _stop calling me that!_ "

"Sure, Sifu Hotman!" Aang was grinning in a way that said he knew _exactly_ what he was doing.

Well, two could play that game. Zuko growled in frustration, a single wisp of flame coming out of his mouth. "You'll pay for that one, Avatar."

"Sure, Sifu. Whatever you say." Aang, not the least bit intimidated, danced away from Zuko's next jet of flames with an airbender's easy grace. Then, he leaped directly upwards.

"Oh no, you don't!" Unfortunately for Aang, Zuko had become familiar with every one of his evasive maneuvers during his Avatar hunting days. He leaped into the air after Aang just in time to grab hold of his ankle and yank him back down. Aang collapsed in a giggling heap as his back hit the ground.

Unfortunately for _Zuko_ , the leap put just enough strain on his body to agitate the stomach pain he'd first noticed the previous night, and which had been steadily worsening since. Even as he landed he was doubling over, wrapping an arm around his midsection and fighting not to throw up right there in the middle of a match.

"Zuko?" Just as quickly as it had started, Aang's giggling ceased; he was now sitting up and frowning at Zuko, his eyebrows creased in worry. "Are you okay?"

"Fine." Zuko forced the word out through gritted teeth, and if he took a couple of seconds to make absolutely _sure_ he could choke back the nausea, well, Aang didn't need to know that. "Just a bit of a stomachache, that's all."

Aang did not look reassured. "That looks worse than 'a bit of a stomachache'. Maybe you should ask Katara—"

Zuko felt the blood drain out of his face at the thought of going to Katara for help—Katara, who hated him probably more than everyone else here combined, who'd threatened to _kill_ him his first day joining the group, who he had no doubt would follow through on her threat if he gave her any reason to believe he wasn't pulling his weight. "I'll be fine." Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to straighten up from his hunch.

"Are you sure?" Aang was still looking at him in concern. "I can just practice forms for now if you need to take a break."

Zuko snorted; this kid really was something else. "Don't think you're going to get out of training that easily. It's not like I've never been sick before." Aang opened his mouth, but Zuko cut him off before he could even start his protest. "I just haven't gotten used to eating rough again yet, that's all. I'm _fine_."

"Well… if you say so." Aang's expression of concern didn't waver, but he _did_ take a fighting stance, and Zuko supposed that that would have to do. He called a start to the match.

For the next few rounds, it went reasonably well. Though Zuko couldn't deny he was still a bit off his game, and he suspected that Aang was holding back because of his earlier show of weakness, the kid _was_ at least working with fire now and he was willing to consider that progress. He wasn't going to tolerate that hesitance forever, but he could at least wait until Aang gained a bit more confidence before making him step up the pace.

He was about to call a halt for lunch when Aang's fireball slammed into his stomach.

Under most circumstances, he would have been able to block or dodge such an attack, or at the very least shrug it off. This time, though, it somehow managed to hit him right in the tenderest part of his stomach, and the pain that was _already_ bad and had been getting steadily worse throughout the training session was suddenly unbearable. All at once Zuko found himself on the ground, no longer able to even keep up the pretense of being okay, arms wrapping around his stomach as he curled himself up into a protective ball.

"Oh no, Zuko, I'm _so sorry!_ " Immediately Aang was at his side, hand partway outstretched as if he wanted to help but wasn't quite sure what to do. "I'm sorry, I thought you were going to block that, and I… I…" Forcing his head up with a groan, Zuko saw that the young Avatar's eyes were beginning to well with tears. "How badly did I burn you?" The question came out in a whisper.

"Not… burned." Zuko had to force the words out from between clenched teeth.

"What do you _mean_ you're not burned? If I didn't burn you, then what—" Aang's eyebrows pulled downward into a frown as he put two and two together mid-sentence. "Okay, that's it. I'm getting Katara."

"I told you, I'm _fine_." Even though it felt as if the motion was going to send his guts spewing back up his throat, Zuko forced himself into a sitting position. "Besides, Katara hates me."

"Katara is _mad_ at you," Aang corrected. "That doesn't mean she's not going to help you if you need it. I'm sure she'll—wait a minute, what are you _doing?_ "

"What does it _look_ like I'm doing?" Zuko glared. "I'm getting up."

Aang let out a sigh, but he must have decided to pick his battles, for he made no further protest. "I'm still asking Katara to take a look at you. 'Just a stomachache' shouldn't be causing you this much pain. Please, Zuko?" Aang looked up at him with pleading eyes. "It might be something serious."

Personally, Zuko thought he was overreacting, but he was also trying to get better at picking _his_ battles. "Fine," he conceded as he pushed himself to his feet. "But don't think this is going to get you out of training."

No sooner were they within sight of the main campsite than Aang went sprinting ahead. "Katara! Hey, Katara!"

The waterbender in question turned around with a smile when Aang called her name, only for her expression to slam down into a scowl when she set eyes on Zuko behind him. This did absolutely nothing to convince Zuko that asking her for help was a good idea. She seemed to wrestle with herself for a few seconds over how to respond to someone she liked being in the company of someone she detested before apparently deciding that the best policy would be to ignore Zuko completely, which in all honesty was fine by him. "Hey, Aang. I had no idea you'd be up this early, so I'm afraid it's going to be a while before breakfast is ready."

"Um…" Aang sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. "I was actually going to ask if you'd take a look at Zuko. He says it's just a stomachache—"

"It _is_ just a stomachache."

"—but I think he's in a lot more pain than he's letting on, and I'm afraid that maybe something is really wrong." He gave Katara the same pleading look that Zuko had been on the receiving end of a few minutes ago.

"Really, Aang, I'm _fine_." Zuko gave a nod to Katara, despite the fact that she was still scowling at him. "Sorry to have bothered you—"

"Oh, sit _down_."

Almost against his will, Zuko found his legs folding to seat himself on a nearby rock before he'd even consciously registered the words—mostly out of shock, for it had been _Katara_ who'd spoken.

Already she was approaching him, one hand gloved with water. "You have _one job_ here," she continued as she pressed the water to his stomach, far more gently than he would have expected from someone who was so angry with him, "and if you think I'm going to let you get out of doing it just because you're—"

No sooner did the water start glowing, though, than she ground to a halt mid-tirade, her eyes going wide. "Oh. Oh, that's not good."

Aang, who'd settled down to lean against a rock of his own as she worked, now pushed himself back upright with a worried expression. "Katara? _What's_ not good?"

Instead of answering, she turned to Aang with her lower lip between her teeth. "Aang, I need you to get me some water, something to bite down on, and the sharpest knife you can find, and come meet us in the infirmary. Make sure that no one else goes up there for now." Rather than pressing her for further information, Aang gave a quick nod and dashed off to do as she said. " _You_ ," she rounded on Zuko, who flinched automatically, "come with me."

"Katara, wait!" Katara was already walking, and did not break her stride; Zuko was forced into a near-trot in order to catch up with her. "What's going on? _What's_ not good?"

Her open hostility had been intimidating enough, but at least Zuko could _understand_ it; Katara had every right to be angry with him, given their history. This new, serious attitude was somehow even scarier, and Zuko felt a cold dread beginning to spread through him at the thought of what could possibly worry Katara enough to make her stop snapping at him.

Though she still didn't slow her pace, she did at least _answer_ him this time. "What's _wrong_ ," she said as they pushed through the door of the infirmary, "is that you've got an infection in one of your internal organs. Right here." Turning around, she poked her finger at a spot just to the right of his stomach. "The pain you've been feeling is from the swelling. Sooner or later, it's going to rupture, and it needs to come out _before_ that happens, or you _will_ die an incredibly slow and painful death."

Zuko swallowed. He didn't need any further explanation from Katara to figure out _how_ exactly it was going to have to "come out".

"Hey, Katara?" They both turned, to see that Aang had caught up with them and was standing in the doorway, holding their cookpot in his hands. "Here's the water. Sokka's in the middle of gutting some fish right now, but he said I could borrow the knife after he was done…"

"Here." Reaching into his boot, Zuko pulled out the knife his uncle had given him and handed it over. Katara pulled the blade out of its sheath, and nodded in satisfaction after testing its sharpness on one of her fingernails. "Let's just get this over with."

For once, Katara seemed to be in complete agreement with him, for she immediately turned to Aang. "Boil that water and use it to sterilize the knife." Aang nodded, placing his hands on the side of the pot, and breathed. Within seconds steam was rising from under the lid, and in spite of the mounting dread Zuko couldn't help but feel proud at how far he'd already come. While Aang was tending to the water, Katara turned to Zuko. "If you've got any clothing you don't want getting all bloody, I suggest you take it off now."

Without bothering to answer, Zuko turned to do as she said, shrugging out of his shirt before folding it a lot more neatly than was probably necessary and placing it atop one of the nearby tables. Hands on the sash that held up his pants, he hesitated.

Katara rolled her eyes. "Look, if you're that worried about your modesty, you have absolutely _nothing_ I haven't seen before." Her tone somehow managed to convey that she very much doubted she'd be impressed regardless.

Zuko's face grew so hot he was surprised it didn't catch on fire. At least he had the consolation that Aang was _also_ turning bright red (albeit, he suspected, for a very different reason).

"Here." Katara gestured him to the table in the center of the room after he'd finished. Though he was able to force himself to move his feet and walk over, he didn't even _try_ to hide the shaking in his hands, or the fact that his breath was now coming in short, shallow gulps of air.

Zuko _refused_ to die so soon after finally choosing to do the right thing, and he knew that if he wanted to live, he was going to have to cooperate. He understood the necessity, he _did_ , and he reminded himself over and over again that he could handle pain far better than someone his age had any right to… but it was one thing to be injured in the heat of combat, another thing entirely to just lie down and _let_ someone cut him open. That the only person qualified to do the cutting had made no secret of her loathing for him only made the dread that much worse.

"Zuko." A hand landed on his shoulder, and he turned to see that Aang had sat down next to him. "Breathe. Deep breaths. In through your nose, out through your mouth." The hand moved to his back, and started rubbing slow, soothing circles right between his shoulder blades. "I know it's not the same thing. But when I was getting my tattoos, it really helped to just keep taking deep breaths. Tensing up will only make it worse."

"Okay." Katara turned to face him, a stream of water hovering over one hand and the knife clenched in the other. "Go ahead and lie down." Heart pounding, he did as she instructed; Aang hopped off the table to make room for him but remained standing right next to his head.

"Is there anything else I can do to help?" the Avatar asked quietly as Katara began cleaning the skin around Zuko's stomach.

"Yes." She appeared to be fully focused on her task, not making eye contact with either of them, but Zuko could see her throat bob as she swallowed nervously. "I need him pinned, and I need him pinned so he _can't move_. And give him something to bite down on, it'll help."

Aang nodded, and with an apologetic look toward Zuko, shifted his feet into an earthbending stance.

Immediately, he was encased in stone restraints: rock pinning down his limbs and wrapping around his chest and hips to hold him in place. Try as he might, Zuko did not think he could so much as wiggle.

"Here." Aang held out a leather strap. "Sokka gave me this when I went to get the water. If you bite down, it will help with the pain."

"Aang, this isn't going to be pretty." Katara now had only the knife in hand, her lips pressed together into a thin line. "You don't have to stay if you don't want to."

Aang's eyes flicked briefly to her before going back to Zuko, whose breathing had quickened again in spite of Aang's earlier advice, before turning to Katara again with an air of steely determination. "I'm staying."

If Katara had an opinion on that, she didn't voice it, only nodded decisively. "Okay. Then I'll need you to stay back and out of the way, and if you start feeling queasy, _leave_. I can't do my job right if I end up having to tend to _both_ of you."

"Of course." Aang didn't move from his position by Zuko's head. " _Breathe_ ," the younger boy reminded him as he placed the strap between Zuko's teeth. "I'm going to be right here, okay?"

He still wasn't prepared when the actual cutting part began.

All at once there was a new, tearing, searing pain on top of the twisting, nauseating internal pain that had been building up since the previous night, and a muffled scream tore out of him without him willing it. It hurt so much he almost didn't notice when someone else's hands came to rest on either side of his head.

"It's okay, it's okay, I'm right here." Aang's face appeared above him, his fingers gently carding through Zuko's hair. "I know it hurts, but it'll be over soon, okay? Just hang in there. You'll be okay. You're going to get through this." Aang smiled gently. "I believe in you."

Aang's grip, though gentle, was also firm enough to keep him from moving his head: he could not turn to watch what Katara was doing, could only keep looking up at Aang's earnest face. That didn't stop him from _feeling_ the already-torn skin being pulled away from the flesh underneath, or the next cut being made, or the next, or the next, until all rational thought gave way to an animal panic that insisted that Katara actually _was_ killing him. He wanted to panic and flail. He wanted to breathe fire. He wanted to _run_. Every time he tried to move, though, the rock would tighten around his limbs as Aang ran slender fingers through his hair or rubbed a hand in circles over a patch of skin that wasn't covered by rock.

"It's okay. Hold on. I know it hurts, but _hold on_. You're going to be okay. You're going to be okay."

Then, though, there were fingers inside him, actual _fingers_ rooting around inside of his body where no one else's fingers should _ever_ be allowed. Though he wanted to scream again, he was suddenly too weak to do much more than whimper. All at once, Aang's voice sounded like it was coming from underwater, and his face was suddenly looking back at him from the end of a long black tunnel. A few seconds later, his vision was completely overtaken by a cloud of darkness.

* * *

"Zuko? Zuko? …I think he fainted." Nevertheless, Aang continued to comb his fingers through Zuko's shaggy hair. Even though he was unconscious, the latter's face was still drawn and twisted with pain.

"Given how this must feel, that's probably a good thing." Katara grimaced with concentration, and then made one last cut with the knife. "Got it."

Aang looked up, raising his eyebrows. In response to his unasked question, Katara extended her hand. Nestled between her bloodied fingers was a thin little lump of flesh. Without a word, Aang reached forward to draw it into a sphere of whirling air.

It was… surprisingly small. Far too tiny to be the cause of so much agony. Nevertheless, upon taking a closer look, even to Aang's inexpert eye it appeared to be unnaturally swollen and discolored. It certainly didn't look like something that anyone should have left inside of them.

"Bury that. Or burn it. Just don't let it come in contact with other people." Aang nodded, and took a breath. Remembering the dragons, he let his chi flow out of him until the air sphere was filled with a raging (but perfectly contained) inferno of flame. When he let it burn out a few seconds later, only ashes were left.

Katara, meanwhile, was bending a stream of water, first to clean her hands, and then to press over the cut she'd made. Not having anything better to do and still wanting to help as much as he could, Aang settled back down and rested a hand against Zuko's chest. To his relief, his fingers were able to pick out a clear, strong heartbeat.

"Aang." He looked up, to see Katara smiling at him in a way that made his stomach go all fluttery. "Thanks. What you did there… I think it really helped."

"I couldn't just let him go through that alone." Aang glanced down at Zuko, whose tense expression was slowly beginning to relax, and once more combed his fingers absentmindedly through the older boy's hair. "I know you don't like Zuko, but…"

"…but you don't like seeing other people suffer, and you wouldn't be you if you didn't try to help." She flashed him another smile, albeit slightly more strained this time. "I understand. I'll be as glad as you are when this is all over."

" _I want Zuko to hurry up and get better so I don't have to worry about him anymore_ " was the part that went unsaid, but Aang didn't call her on it. Katara had already done as much as could be reasonably asked of her. Aang didn't mind picking up the rest of the slack.

* * *

The first thing he was aware of was that he felt like he was floating, even though he seemed to be lying down.

The next was that someone was holding his hand.

It took him a moment to remember where he was. His first thought was that he had injured himself again, and that Uncle was taking care of him—but no, Uncle was in jail because of him, and besides the fingers wrapped around his weren't nearly warm enough to be Uncle's. The Western Air Temple… he'd come to the Western Air Temple to teach the Avatar firebending…

Zuko opened his eyes.

He'd been moved back to the room that Sokka had assigned him to sleep in. His folded clothes had also been brought in, and left next to the rest of his things. Sitting in a chair next to his bedside was Aang, and…

Ah. _That_ was who was holding his hand.

"Aang." His voice came out in a raspy whisper, and Zuko couldn't be sure whether it was just because his throat was dry, or if it was from screaming. "I'm _fine_."

"I know." Aang did not let go of his hand. "Here, you should drink some water."

Before he could respond, Aang had his free hand beneath Zuko's back and was helping to prop him up against the pillows. Then, a cup of water was pressed into the hand that Aang wasn't holding captive.

Though there was a part of Zuko that _wanted_ to protest being treated like an infant, he just didn't have the energy right now. Besides, he had to admit that he _was_ thirsty. So, he sipped at the water without complaint while Aang traced nonsense scribbles on his palm.

Once the cup was empty, Zuko moved to set it aside, only for Aang to pluck it out of his hand with a grin before he'd even managed to reach halfway across the bed. Zuko opened his mouth, but then closed it with a huff. If several dozen repetitions a day hadn't gotten Aang to stop calling him "Sifu Hotman," he somehow didn't think that anything he said now was going to make a difference. Instead, he used his free hand (because no, Aang still hadn't let go of him) to lift up the covers so he could get a look at how bad the damage was.

His abdomen had been bandaged up, but when he ran his fingers over the spot where he remembered Katara cutting him, he could just pick up the bumps and ridges of a line of fresh sutures, roughly halfway between his stomach and his hip. Though the wound _did_ still hurt, it was a bearable pain—the stabbing agony that had driven all thought out of his head other than a desperate wish for it to _stop_ had dulled down to a manageable discomfort. The twisting, nauseating internal pain that had been plaguing him since the night before seemed to have vanished entirely.

"Katara said she'll heal you some more once you've both rested a bit. It'll take more than one session, and she wanted to take care of the deepest damage first." Aang frowned. "I had a look right after, and… Zuko, that thing looked _nasty_. It wasn't something you'd want to leave inside you."

"Thanks, Aang, I get the picture." He really did _not_ want Aang to start describing the details—especially now that he'd finally _stopped_ feeling queasy.

"It's just…" Aang's fingers tightened around his. "If Katara hadn't taken it out when she did, I'm pretty sure that it would have _killed_ you. And you wouldn't even admit how much pain you were in." Much to Zuko's alarm, he saw that Aang's eyes were now welling with tears. "You didn't even want to let her _treat_ it until I dragged you over. You don't…" He swallowed. "Do you not think that you deserve help?"

Zuko sighed. "It's not that." Though Aang remained silent, clearly waiting for him to continue, Zuko didn't say anything more, because suddenly he just couldn't find the right words to express the confused mess of his feelings.

It wasn't hard to see how much Aang idolized Katara. Zuko also wasn't sure whether Aang had picked up on how hostile Katara was to _him_. He _knew_ Katara's anger toward him was not without reason, and he didn't want to make excuses for himself or hide behind the Avatar. He didn't want to tell Aang in particular how certain he'd been in that moment that he wasn't going to leave that room alive.

Katara _hated_ him. She'd already threatened to kill him once. After a childhood spent with Azula, Zuko had learned that when one of his peers expressed an intention to harm him, they usually _meant_ it. So far, he'd been placating himself with the reminder that Toph was in his corner, and that Aang probably wouldn't be happy if anyone pushed his firebending teacher off a cliff… but this time had been different. This time, Katara had had him pinned and completely at her mercy, and she was the only healer in the group. Aang probably had only the vaguest understanding of what she was doing, and in an emergency surgery, there were so many things that could go wrong. It would have been _so easy_ for her to nick a major artery, to let an infection set in, to cut something that wasn't supposed to be cut, to say she'd done everything she could when she hadn't, and nobody else in the group would have been any the wiser. Yet, he'd woken up, and he was on the mend, and he knew enough to understand that he wouldn't be in this bed with Aang holding his hand if Katara hadn't done everything in her power to keep him alive.

…even though he didn't deserve it.

He must have gone too long without a response, for Aang was talking again. "…Zuko? Zuko, are you okay?"

Zuko didn't answer. He _couldn't_ answer. Instead, he turned away, covering his face with his free arm to hide the tears that were suddenly welling in his eyes. He couldn't even explain _why_ he was suddenly crying like a little kid.

Aang didn't press him. Instead, he simply tightened his grip on Zuko's hand, turning his own so that their fingers were laced together. "Hey," he said gently. His free hand was rubbing Zuko's shoulder. "Hey, it's okay. It's rough. It hurts. I know. I know, but it's going to get better. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

Zuko didn't answer out loud… but he did, ever so slightly, squeeze Aang's hand back.

If Katara stuck her head into the room a few hours later to check up on Zuko, only to find that there was an Avatar in the bed with him and both of them were fast asleep in a tangle of limbs, she had enough tact not to mention it.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes I watched actual surgical training videos in preparation for writing this _don't judge me_
> 
> I think that Aang is made of stronger stuff than he's commonly given credit for. Also _look at how much of his body those tattoos cover_ you're not going to convince me that didn't hurt like monkey feathers.


End file.
